Short Armpit Poems
Short Armpit Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Armpit by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Armpit by length and keyword.
She didn’t wax her furry legs
And didn’t shave her armpit hair.
Bikini line so overgrown;
She had a forest growing there.
she walks on, this woman
till her worldly bell tolls
sleepless and confusing
candor in her top dress
obscurity in her petticoat
intrigue under the armpit
a button of danger in heart
Yet behind her, a rush of id
Methinks my writings are now all for naught
In an unending spiral, I've suddenly been caught
Is it my armpit odor
Or just getting older
Must keep up with the latest gossip in the coffee shops
,
Truly it is not a human being
a creature on earth it is not
yet it claims to belong here
urging me to enlist it as citizen
but a bleeding ghost it is
Humanity stringed in my brain
deserving rights and privileges
under the armpit of my wrath
makes me a weird and naïve to
grant rights to a bleeding ghost
He smells like he came from a bin
the odour has stuck to his skin
For this fugly twit
with eau de armpit
is known as Big Ianto Bumchin
(This is about my smelly performing arts tutor.
He's well aware he stinks.
He just gets off on being as disgusting as possible.)
Jodie Williams for
Carolyn's Horrible bosses contest
17 Aug 2011
CYCLONE
Hair snow
Lost beaux
Airtime
Breath crime
Tarpit
Armpit
Dispels
Egg shells
Feet sweat
Twin threat
~
Cyclone
Bath zone
~
Feet sweet
Twin treat
Reposed
Composed
Acquit
Armpit
Took hint
Breath mint
Lost hair
Don’t care!
3/19/2017
Fabulous Fun Footles contest
1st Place
How can I jilt you my True Love?
I shall be hurting Lord God’s Dove
Why would I teach you what is wrong
When it won’t help us to live long?
What is The Essence of crying Foul,
When we can absolve wrongs like Scowl?
Which love had lasted and no hurt;
Which hands neared a stuff and no dirt?
Whose loving skills do we trumpet?
All of us smell in The Armpit!
Campfires
I have been around them
Burned sausages
Smoke in my eyes
My heart has been hot
My back has been cold
Friends; lost and found
A vacancy sign; removed from my armpit
I have looked into the flames
I have put them out
I tought about that today
We sat in a circle, 2 meter apart
Talked about our back ailments
Almost like sitting around a campfire
Sniff, sniff. What is that smell?
Is it him who exudes that tell
Of his character that he will sell?
That the former presidential counterfeit
Smells of ketchup, butt, and armpit
An ex-GOP lawmaker did admit.
Is it pleasant? They say not.
Everything he has, he ill got.
An honest bone is not to be found in his lot.
So, what does Trump expel
That he cannot quell?
It can only be his corruption that we all smell.
Who doesn't know I can bake
A befitting king John's Cake
And other senior Job's take:
People of High profile make?
Far into the night awake,
Knowledge displayed for its sake,
None of my finished products fake
Not what makes hirers rake
Nor cause to drown in a lake
Nor me liken to a snake...
Sure, I'm blowing my trumpet,
Claiming sweet - smelling armpit:
I had been Luck's Ignored Pet
For decades with eyelids wet...
the night before yesterday
a boy about six or seven
from a country of far east
where holy waters meet
was disturbing a girl on net
the girl was an extra smart
anyhow she managed to catch
and dragged the boy on a roof
to teach him lesson for life
in anger and raze she dropped
from a height of about fifty feet
but with her wonders she saw
the naughty boy did not die at all
in his armpit he had bird’s wings.
What does it say about me?
That I am a nature lover?
That egg,
What does it say about me?
That it is my nature to nurture?
That I am a pigeon lover?
All is true,
Having pet doves,
Dreaming of a coop
Of free flying birds
Of racers
Of pure bred pigeons with fancy plumes
Of someday owning a falcon...
What does it say of me,
That egg,
The pigeon egg,
That once in my hand
My immediate response
Was to tuck it in my armpit.
Form:
I do not confide this often, but today is a painful day
The flea is knitting again; and he gets wild with the needles.
So I am being poked and bruised, as he works on an afghan.
My friend asks me “Dare I guess where he lives?”
In a hairy spot, under my left armpit, I confess.
And you cannot get rid of him? I do not choose to.
Why is that?
He is the best dog sitter we have ever had.
He knows how to keep them in line.
Oh…..
In my left armpit a big boll
That made me with anger boil…
Then, nurse began to water boil.
“Please, don’t touch it now: let it boil…”
“But not like breakfast tea I boil!”
I’d prayed fluid would spill on the soil
And had begun to like snakes coil
But her next move, I on that soil,
With the planned help of a sir Doyle
Who made steadying me his toil…
Several attempts to escape foil…
Treating a boil could a day spoil;
Two friends in arguments embroil.